Making Amends
by ObsidianDraconis
Summary: It's been five years since the war. Over that time, Draco Malfoy has grown and changed. Now, in the spirit of the season, he stands on the doorstep of one Hermione Granger prepared to make amends. He soon finds he may get more than he bargained for. Christmas one-shot. EWE. Rated T for some language.


**_A/N: it's been a while since I've touched a Dramione. I know I wrote a few one-shots a while ago, but my mind has been focused on the Twilight Bellsper fic I've been trying to get out for what feels like forever. I just couldn't seem to get my mind off writing a holiday one-shot though. So here we are. As I know not everyone celebrates Christmas, Happy Holidays!_**

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Draco Malfoy hesitated, fist poised to knock, taking note of the din coming from behind the door. He knew he shouldn't have waited until Christmas Eve to do this, but tis the season and all that rot. He thought Granger would appreciate the gesture. Now he would have to suffer some sort of Christmas do. Oh bugger, that meant Potter and the Weasel were likely inside as well. He really didn't feel like enduring those two. They would have to insert themselves, unkind words would probably be said, and a hex potentially cast. Damn.

He wasn't about to keep standing on her stoop looking like a wanker either, however. Perhaps he could get in, say his piece, and get out with no one the wiser. Now that sounded like a plan. He could knock, she'd answer, he'd suggest Disillusioning himself, she could lead him to a private room, and he could say what he wanted and leave. It could work, it had to.

"Oh, stop stalling you git and get on with it." There was nothing for it; Draco rapped sharply on the door and waited. No turning back now.

He vaguely heard some odd shuffling, what sounded like a mild struggle, then the door swung open hitting the wall behind it with a hard thump. "Well hello there, Ferret."

So much for avoiding Potter. There he stood in all his disheveled, bespectacled glory, with his stupid scar quite visibly hammered. Behind him towered Weasley in all his ginger splendor, glaring at Draco as if that alone would scare him off, also obviously sloshed. Perfect.

Draco just mentally prepared himself and shoved his way inside. Unmannerly? Yes. Did he give a toss? No. "Sod off, Potter. Is Granger at home, I'd like to speak with her."

Draco should have known better than to count on a drunk Harry Potter to be discrete. Of course not. The bloody idiot shouted as loudly as he could into the flat, drawing nearly the entire party's attention their way. "Oi, 'Mione, there's a great bloody git here to see you."

From somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, a muffled voice called out. "Harry James Potter, what have I told you?"

Potter muttered a curse before answering. "It's Christmas and I'm to be nice. But 'Mione, it's Malfoy. Why do I have to be nice to him?"

She came into view then, hair piled on top of her head with what he thought were those Chinese takeaway chopsticks, only more ornate. It was so bushy, though, that tendrils escaped the confines to frame her face quite fetchingly. Wait, what? Granger did not look fetching. No, certainly not. She looked like Granger, plain, bushy, and, and…

Draco couldn't think of any other insults. If he were honest, her hair being up showcased just how long and graceful her neck was. Decidedly feminine. She wasn't plain at all either, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the kitchen, and a ravishing frock that enhanced her figure to perfection. The fact it was Slytherin green was moot, really it was. One shoulder bare, it hugged her curves in all the proper ways; legs highlighted by the mid-thigh length hem. Had Granger always bore such long legs? Of course, Weasley and Potter had to ruin it.

"Oi, Malfoy, her eyes are further up yeah," growled Saint Potter, as Weasley gave Draco's shoulder a not so gentle push.

Draco watched in satisfaction as Granger smacked them both in the back of the head. Not an easy feat given the height disparity.

"Harry, Ronald, stop it." Then she turned those charming brown eyes his way and smiled. She had a lovely smile. "Sorry about that, Malfoy, do come in. What brings you to my humble little flat on Christmas Eve? Here, let me take your coat. I promise it'll be properly hung in my closet."

Draco allowed her to take his cloak, following along behind her as she led him through the sitting room, down a hall, and into what turned out to be her bedroom. "If you wanted me in your bed, Granger, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to lead me here under the guise of being a gracious hostess."

That got him a glare. "Oh, hush you. My little front closet doesn't have enough room for everyone's coats and cloaks, so I had to store a few in here. I could just leave it on the floor if you'd like."

It was Draco's turn to glare.

"Don't you bloody dare. That thing cost more than Potter's yearly salary. It's genuine dragonhide leather…" Her laughter pulled him from his rant. "You're taking the piss with me, aren't you?"

She wiped tears from her eyes as she nodded. "Yes, but it was so easy. You really need to stop being so crotchety. So, what brought you here, Malfoy. You didn't say."

"Potter and the weas…" she scowled at him again. "My apologies, Weasley, didn't really give me a chance to. Do you mind if we stay in here, or is there a less intimate place you'd prefer? I'd rather not have an audience."

Bobbing her head, she breezed past him and he realized just how short she really was. He didn't think he was that tall at three inches above six feet, but when she squeezed passed him through the door, her crown just missed his chin. How could so much ferocity be in such a small package?

As he trotted along after her back down the hall, Draco might have stared at her arse. He was a man, what could he say? It was a rather nice derrière as well, would certainly be a nice handful. Round, full, and it jiggled slightly as she walked. Draco Malfoy was most assuredly an arse man.

"If you're quite finished staring at my backside?"

Face turned in his direction, one delicate brow arched, Granger didn't sneer or glare, just stared him down until he could feel the even the tips of his ears grow hot. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed. Clearing his throat, he looked anywhere but at her. "Sorry about that."

"Draco, you're a man, I have a nice arse. I'm not oblivious to these things. I thought you wished to talk, however. In here is fine." She led him into a nicely appointed study. A small oak desk sat before the windows, bookshelves lined the walls, and it was all done up in a forest green paper with a rich plum accent. "Door open or shut?"

Startled, Draco stepped out of the doorframe and shifted to stand in front of a rather plush royal plum settee. "Oh, umm, shut please."

The snick of the door was the only sound in the room. Once closed, Granger indicated he take a seat before sitting next to him. Now that the moment was upon him, Draco became nervous. Feet planted firmly on the floor he rubbed his palms along his thighs, trying to rid them of their dampness. He had practiced this damn speech so many times, why was he so anxious now? He was afraid she'd think him dimwitted if he didn't get on with it soon.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Draco shuffled slightly to face her. "I just want you to know how difficult this is for me. We Malfoys have trouble admitting we're wrong at the best of times. I know it's taken entirely too long for me to pluck up the courage to do this. Five years too long, in fact…"

Her hand touched his arm and Draco took note of how delicate her fingers were. Dainty really. Long; soft he'd bet too. "Draco, just say what you mean."

Somehow, her gentle support gave him courage. He drew in a deep breath and went on. "I came to make amends, Granger… Hermione. I was an utter prat when we were kids. I don't plan to make excuses, but surely you understand the pressure I was under to be the perfect Malfoy, the perfect example of Pure-blood status. I barely had the ability to think for myself, let alone form my own opinions of people. Especially those my family and peers deemed lesser than ourselves.

"It wasn't until after the war that I finally decided to branch out on my own. Having a deranged person, or persons as it were, live in your home forcing you to live under constant fear and scrutiny, well… it's a wonder I didn't go mad entirely. I just wanted to survive at that point. I want you to know, if I wasn't so bloody terrified of what he'd do to me, to my family if I'd helped that day you lot were brought to the Manor, I would have. Helped you I mean. I did try, in a way, by not identifying you. It just wasn't enough and I'm sorry for what my aunt did to you."

He turned away from her, unable to look her in the eyes as he shivered at the memory of her lying on the floor being tortured by his aunt. Thank Merlin that crazy bitch was dead. "We all grew up too fast, but in my case, it helped me. It forced me to realize that my beliefs, my family's beliefs, were wrong. How could they be even remotely acceptable if it meant killing innocent people? If it meant hurting others?"

Hermione squeezed his arm, drawing his gaze back to her own. He hadn't realized how close they were until he spotted the flecks of green and gold in her chestnut irises. Stunning really. It was a shame he'd never realized how beautiful she genuinely was, inside and out. He and his mother had been on the receiving end of one of her good deeds after the war when she testified on their behalf, keeping them out of Azkaban. They hadn't gone without all consequence, of course, but being forced to make restitution was better than being stuffed into a box for the rest of your life.

"Draco, I forgave you that a long time ago. If I hadn't, I never would have appeared on your behalf. Even Harry doesn't always mean what he says. I think he just likes giving you a go every now and then. He is an odd sort you know. We were kids, kids thrust into untenable circumstances and you were taught that I was dirty, nothing, from the day you were born. You never had a chance, neither did I. What matters now, is that you've learned to speak for yourself. That you know we aren't that different. Have you done that? Have you changed?"

Nodding emphatically, Draco clutched her hand in his. "Yes, I promise. I'm not that same child, not that same teenager. I swear it, on Merlin's balls if I have to."

The way she tipped her head back, eyes closed as she laughed mesmerized him. The things he was finally noticing after five years… Draco mentally kicked himself for taking so blasted long. "I don't need you to go that far, though Harry and Ron probably wouldn't mind hearing it. Was that all you came for, Draco?"

"Yes, that was it."

Granger never let go of his hand as she gracefully gained her feet, pulling him up beside her. Merlin, she certainly was short. "Well then, I insist you stay for the party. I have food, elf wine, and eggnog, among other things. We're going to play a few games and then watch It's A Wonderful Life and countdown to Christmas. Then we're going to exchange gifts at the stroke of midnight."

"I, umm, I don't have a gift."

She just patted his hand with a smile, "don't worry, I always purchase extras just in case. I can't tell you the number of times Ron has forgotten to bring one. Please, stay."

How could he say no when she asked him so nicely? "Alright, I'll stay. On one condition."

"Oh?"

A mischievous smile lit his face as Draco leaned in to whisper in her ear, "keep Potter and Weasley away from me. I may hex them if they act like gits."

Draco grinned wider when her breathing stuttered and sped. Seemed perhaps she was just as affected by him as he seemed to be by her. "O…okay. I'll try, I make no promises though."

Yanking the door open, Draco snatched Granger back in barely enough time to keep her from getting toppled by the two Knob Heads that fell through from the other side. Potter blinked up at them owlishly while Weasley cursed the air blue.

"Get your ruddy elbow out of my sternum, Harry." Draco was shocked Weasley even knew what a sternum was.

More cursing and muttering ensued as the two numpties tried to disentangle themselves from one another. Granger glowered at the two idiots a moment before stepping over them and into the hall. She didn't address them at all as she turned back and leveled that glare on him. "Are you coming or not, Malfoy?"

"Right you are."

Draco narrowly avoided kicking Potter in the face and stepping on Weasley's family jewels as he used the length of his legs to get over them and into the hall. Alright, maybe he didn't actually try, they just got lucky they were rolling about so much he missed. Their voices followed the duo down the hall and all the way into the sitting room.

"'Mione, please. We're sorry, alright, now come help us out yeah?"

She just shouted back, "serves you right for eavesdropping on a private conversation. Help yourselves out of your predicament."

Draco was rather put out when they did that. Took them all of five minutes to extricate themselves from one another and the floor though. Probably due to their inebriated states. "We were just making sure Malfoy didn't try something on. He can't be trusted, you know?"

Granger sneered; Draco was impressed. It was a very good sneer. She could even pass for a Malfoy if she had pale hair and silver eyes. "No, I do not know, Ronald Weasley. He was perfectly lovely to me and you're not going to treat him badly. If you're going to be a prat, you're welcome to leave. Do you understand?"

Draco smirked as Weasley stalked off muttering under his breath. One down, one to go. Potter just leveled him with a look that said he was to be on his best behavior and trailed after his sidekick. Impressive given the state of him.

Granger pulled him into the kitchen and forced him to make himself a plate, then led him by the hand like a small tot back into the sitting room where she introduced him around to the dozen or so others before promptly shoving him onto a muted grey sofa and taking a seat next to him. Conversation resumed and he was forgotten.

The rest of the evening wasn't altogether unpleasant if he were honest. The games did get a little rowdy, but Draco supposed they were fun. The food was delicious, best he'd ever had honestly. When he learned Granger had made it, he almost asked her to marry him right then and there. He could barely boil water, let alone make the delicious treats she had. It's why he had a House-elf, paid and clothed of course. He'd changed, after all.

When it came time for the movie, things took an interesting turn. Granger got sandwiched between him and Weasley. As the movie went on, she got more cozy with him, even going so far as to lean her head on his shoulder and take his hand. It was more intimate than he'd expected, but not as unwelcome as it would have been once upon a lifetime ago.

Now they were counting down the seconds to midnight, each person getting increasingly louder the closer they got to one. The lot of them were various degrees of drunk, but Draco wasn't complaining. A tipsy Hermione Granger was a sight to behold. All smiles and dancing eyes, she stood beside him as the clock wound down, hand in his once more. True to her word, she'd discreetly handed him a package and told him to just hand it off to the person to his left when the time came. Whatever was in it, he hopped Lovegood would like it.

With one final shout, the bells chimed the hour and there was a chorus of Happy Christmases as each person handed over their gifts. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought the gift Granger handed him was bought just for him. Inside was a beautifully handcrafted journal of dragonhide leather in a shade the same silver as his eyes. "Thank you, Hermione. It's delightful."

"You're quite welcome, Draco. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

Just then, Draco felt something tickle his cheek. He tried batting it away, but whatever it was, it was terribly persistent. The snickering coming from Weasley and Potter made him look up, and nearly groan aloud. Mistletoe. Oh, Merlin. If he didn't kiss someone, it would never leave him alone. Nothing too difficult with a pretty witch standing right there in front of him, right?

Yet, said witch was her, Hermione Granger, and he wasn't sure how she'd react. Accepting an apology from him was one thing, a kiss another. Oh well. It was her or be bothered the rest of the evening. So, with an awkward chuckle, Draco got her attention and pointed to the mistletoe above their heads.

He was prepared for protests, prepared for a no. What he wasn't prepared for, was her light laugh and fingers in his hair as she pulled his lips to her own. Soft, that was the last thing he thought before he lost himself entirely in the kiss. Her lips were feather soft, plush, pleasantly snogable and he was a goner.

The catcalls and whistles broke them apart, but none of that mattered to him. All that mattered was the brilliant grin on her lips, the fact she pulled him in again. All teeth and tongue this time, Draco gave in to her, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer, his fingers tangling in her loose curls, the bun gone hours before.

He'd kissed a few witches over the years, but none had been as good as this one. He wanted it to go on forever and ever. Alas, it did end, but not before Hermione Granger licked his bottom lip seductively. "I have a confession to make, Malfoy."

He couldn't contain his grin. "Oh?"

She was adorable when she giggled. "I've wanted to do that for ages."

Well, Merlin's saggy blue balls. "Why didn't you?"

"Scared, perhaps. Afraid you'd reject me, make me feel a fool." He couldn't tell her with any certainty that a few months ago he wouldn't have rejected her, but now? How could he reject her now? "Stay the night?"

Sweet Salazar, how could he say no? "Get rid of this lot and I will."

And she did just that. What a Happy Christmas indeed.


End file.
